


Painting Our World

by KoroRii



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Karasuno is a family restaurant, M/M, Modern AU, Rated T for language, Suga has a very active imagination, Suga's imagination is very descriptive, They want it bad, bold!Daichi, bold!Suga, musician!Daichi, painter!Suga, rated T for terrible bc of Daichi's jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-11 03:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7025185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoroRii/pseuds/KoroRii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I simply cannot see my world as you do. Not anymore.” </p><p>“You must be blind.” </p><p>“Not blind.” Suga gave a weak and frail laugh, could you even consider it that. “It just lacks color.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Black

**Author's Note:**

> edited, but not beta read! please don't mind any mistakes! (please tell me when you see any, too)  
> a very chill fic, so don't expect so much.  
> my writing style is kinda hard to read, so i apologize. *´ー｀*)ﾉ
> 
> already pre-written, so chapters will be released v quickly! ٩(๑òωó๑)۶!!
> 
> please enjoy the work!!

He painted with nothing today. 

Suga wiped his face, but it wasn’t perspiration, and it wasn’t out of exasperation. He was tired in a different sense. There was no effort made on his part, unfortunately. What he thought was going to be a productive day was only another hurdle towards recovering. Again, and again, he wiped his skin. With his hands, with a cloth, with dirtied confidence, he tried so desperately to clean himself, but to no avail. He wasn’t surprised. 

Clear tears painted his canvas. Better than he ever could. 

He glared. He didn’t want to, didn’t intend to, but he did. It was impulsive of his muscles to, for some reason, glare at the blank world. His fingers swept across his cheek again, a small sound escaping him slightly. It was so wet, so warm, this paint, yet why was it so unsightly? Why wasn’t it beautiful? Why couldn’t he make anything beautiful? 

Sighing, he placed his brush and colors away, away where he couldn’t see them. He didn’t bother with the canvas, he could see it just fine, but at the same time he didn’t. This satisfied him, somewhat. After hiding his tools, he returned to the white piece of him, placing a hand on its texture, admiring it. He could relate to it, as odd as it sounds. It was nothing, like him. It needed someone to paint the world for him with loud colors, like him. 

Suga wasn’t necessarily a pessimistic person, he simply thought like one. Was there a difference? Being something and thinking like it? Was there? Wasn’t there? He didn’t know. This canvas wasn’t the right thing to ask for and give opinions, it was as empty of the right answers as he was. 

“I’m hungry.” His stomach said to Suga. Suga poked at it, smiling faintly. “Yeah? What’re you in the mood for today, hm?” 

It took a moment to consider. “Treat me to some decent food.” As demanding as it was, Suga could not refuse. Quickly, but not hastily, he gathered a jacket and a small bag, placing his wallet in there, as well as a sketchbook. He did so hesitantly, though wanted to bring the black book along just in case a miracle happened. With this thought, he packed some spare pens as well. 

He went out. The sun was bright and blinding. The heat still so unforgiving. Fazed, Suga trekked along mildly busy streets to very busy ones. He glanced around the city, past different buildings, then settled on a cheap family restaurant, a nice but simple place called Karasuno. It didn’t seem very full, from outside of it he could tell not much families appreciated the school students talking and chewing loudly. Suga thought he may also not be able to bear it, but this place served very good beverages and spicy dishes; a combination he craved for currently. 

He entered, and he already felt like an adult as he tried to drown out the loud yells and cheers. Ignore them, urged his digestive organ, hurry and order food so that we can eat and leave. Compelled to please, Suga did as he was told, walking to sit at an empty table that had two chairs, making sure he was as far away from the noisy kids as possible. He placed his bag on the table and waited for someone to ask him what he wanted. And soon, he came. 

Suga was greeted with a practiced smile as he was handed the menu, though noted the hesitance and shy manner in the way he maneuvered himself. He studied the menu closely. It’s been a while since his last visit, and he had forgotten all the items that he had previously enjoyed. His eyes danced across the names and their descriptions, also taking careful notice in their prices and judging them by it. 

His eyebrow quirked. “Hey, um, do you happen to serve mapo tofu?” 

The waiter blinked his brown eyes, looking rather surprised. Suga didn’t quite comprehend that, so he asked again. “You serve mapo tofu, yes?” He smiled. “You know, the really spicy tofu dish…” 

The waiter nodded quickly. “Ah, we do!” He scratched the back of his head, a casual motion that Suga was unaccustomed to seeing in a respective place, by a waiter, no less. “Sorry, still new to this… And, it surprised me that you would request such a thing.” 

Suga decided to be enlightened. He offered a kind smile. “Really?” He asked. “Why is that?” 

“Why is what?” The waiter blinked again. 

“Why did me ordering my favorite super spicy dish surprise you?” Suga grinned. The waiter awkwardly huffed, he must not do well around strangers. “Ah, you just, uh, seem like the type to—I guess, er, like sweets?” 

“Judging a customer by appearances, are we?” Suga teased. Speaking of appearances, Suga took notice of the fumbling man for the first time. He already knew of his warm brown eyes, but he also seemed to have a kind face as well. He appeared tall, but maybe that was because Suga was sitting. He had longer hair, that was certain, and it was tied in a loose bun. He was unshaven, but Suga still found gentleness in him. 

“Ah—Ah, sorry!” The waiter stumbled. “I—I didn’t mean to, oh god, I’m so sorry—”

Suga waved his hand. “It’s fine, it’s fine! I was just teasing you.” He offered a small giggle. “Please, don’t look so frightened. I feel sorry for you.” 

The man next to him sighed, placing his large hand over his large heart. “I’m still sorry.” He stammered, though Suga could tell he recovered somewhat with that smile. “You like sweets though, right?”

Suga hummed, needing to think about it. Was there anything else to life other than spicy mapo tofu? “I suppose I like pudding. Maybe cookies, oh! And cheesecake.” This smile came a lot easier than most, at least since the last few weeks. “And you…?” 

“Ah! I’m Azumane Asahi.” Suga reached out his hand first, and a timid hand took it. “I like… some sweets. But I prefer meat.” 

“Suga. Sugawara Koushi.” Suga nodded to him. “Call me Suga, if we ever happen to meet again.” 

Asahi gave the ash-colored man a wider smile. “Maybe we’ll meet again very soon and very often!” He pointed to the menu. “Your favorite dish is mapo tofu, right? Our place serves the best! It’s really good.” Suga hummed. “Ah, wonderful, and your prices don’t seem to be bad, maybe if I do like it, I’ll come back.” Asahi nodded once. “You will, I promise. I really like it too, the food here. It’s so useful having an employee discount to one of your favorite restaurants.” 

“Hm, maybe you could treat me next time then?” Suga proposed, and Asahi didn’t look as if he would reject him. He smiled again. “O’course! Just come in any time and look for me!” Suga’s smirk widened. “Ah, so now you’re flirting with a customer?” 

“Eh—I! No, sorry!” Suga laughed, he didn’t have to be so flustered all the time. He wanted to give the man with a fragile heart a hug, and they had just met. “Relax! Kidding! I’m sorry!” Suga coughed, steadying himself as he handed Asahi back the menu. “I was also kidding about treating me, I can afford for myself no problem, so don’t worry. And we just met anyway.” Asahi opened his mouth, about to protest, but Suga cut him off by slapping his arm playfully. “For now, get me some of that mapo tofu!” 

Asahi sighed as he rubbed the spot Suga smacked. “Okay.” He said, leaving with a good-natured curve of his lips as he placed Suga’s order to the chef. Suga waited. 

Hands twitching gently as seconds passed, he decided to remove his book and pencil and sketch a bit. It was a feeble attempt, he knew, as the lead scratched at the paper, not even creating. There was no motivation in his little movements, would you even call his lazy finger flicks that. He dragged the tip of his pencil across the world’s surface, barely grazing its atmosphere, barely morphing it into something even a little beautiful. 

“Huh, that looks nice.” 

A voice tugged him from his spot above the clouds, and possibly brought him higher. He gasped, unable to breathe for a moment, then glanced up at the angel who pulled him. Correction, he was no angel, he was a god himself, for he saw the world and stars in his eyes, and drowned. 

He was tall, again, probably because Suga was sitting. He had short dark hair, so cut short that Suga knew his own thin fingers would struggle grasping the strands. He had tan skin, broad shoulders, thick arms and legs, and oh gosh Suga wanted to pray. He was too perfect. Though his clothes were casual, though they were tacky and practical, he made them look good rather than the other way around. In fact, his taste in fashion was so bad that Suga felt the need to rip them off. Yeah. Scientific fact. 

“Um… I said, uh, it looks nice.” 

“H-huh?” Suga jumped. Perhaps he was being complimented on his own appearance as well? Oh gosh, and he barely did anything to look nice today, he didn’t even shower! Yet he was still able to look decent enough to receive a compliment, how flattering—

“Your… drawing.” The stranger pointed his finger at Suga’s dirty, plain world. “It looks nice.” 

Oh. 

Oh! 

Suga’s cheeks flamed, and he removed his heads from the clouds so that he could look away from heaven and back to the ground. His world wasn’t that nice. “Th-thanks.” He stammered. He set his pencil down, staring at his world, wondering what it was that the attractive man found ‘nice’ about it. 

“Yeah, I—see, I don’t know much about art…” A hand scratched dark hair, and Suga’s breath was once again stolen when he caught the bashful stare of the other. No, it wasn’t his stare, it was his smile. Suga, stop. “... I can tell it’s simple, but it looks very nice. Is it a crow?” 

A crow? Suga glanced down, and true enough, he realized a black bird was soaring through his sky. No, it didn’t look like it was flying, it didn’t even look alive to him. Its wings were spread, but it looked as if it were sprawled flat upon ashen dirt, dead. Flightless. “I… I think it’s a crow?” Suga offered. 

“It looks cool!” The stranger came closer, and Suga wished it was to get a better look at himself rather than the broken bird. He wanted to be appreciated as well. At least he felt confident about his appearance. “Crows are my favorite. You drew it really nice. It looks powerful like that, I like it!” 

Suga looked at him. “R-really?” It’s entirely different from what he interpreted it as, and he should know better because it’s his own drawing, right? He wasn’t necessarily paying attention, yet he somehow created a spur of gray lines crossed together to make a dark bird, wings spread apart, face indiscernible. Could he say he knew his own art better? “You like it?” 

“Yeah! Our high school mascot was a crow, and I just sorta grew obsessed with the idea of strong crows in flight, makes me feel good about us.” The stranger’s eyes widened for a moment, and he slipped a hand into the pocket of his jeans and removed a smartphone with a simple black case. “May I… if it’s not too weird, take a picture? I want to send it to a friend.” 

Why? What was so impressive about it? Don’t show it to your friend, Suga thought, you’ll be laughed at, mocked for liking such an ugly, dead thing. No, he was going to send it as a joke, to make fun of his art. Suga wouldn’t be surprised if it were true, he’d probably laugh with them, insulting his own terrible world. Yes, he would. Just for that reason, Suga allowed him to with a small nod. “Go ahead.” 

“Thanks.” The very handsome man said as he leaned forward to snap the picture at a good angle, and that meant coming closer to Suga, who couldn’t help but stargaze. He could smell his cologne. Once he was done, he straightened and said another “Thanks!” He hummed a happy tune that Suga drank in as he tapped at his screen, probably sending the image to the mentioned friend. While he did this, his eyes lifted up once, briefly, and Suga cursed when he blinked and missed the chance to have a glimpse at heaven once more. “Are you expecting someone?” 

Suga shook his head. All he was waiting for was Asahi with his mapo tofu. He hoped that he took his sweet time coming, too. “No, no one, why?” 

“Mind if I sit here for a while?” A smile was given. Suga’s answer was almost immediate, it was embarrassing. “Please do.” 

And so he sat, and Suga felt blessed. Later, he would thank whatever unknown deity was watching over to him for this great day. Most importantly, he would thank his stomach, who decided to eat out. Were it not so specific in its tastes, Suga would’ve never stepped out and met this man. 

This man was so handsome that he forgot to breathe. No, he literally could not breathe. There was no air way up there, where he was, this perfect man. Suga was so far below him, and that was how breathtaking he was. 

It was honestly uncomfortable, this silence. Suga sighed internally. 

“Ah, sorry.” The man said. Suga’s head snapped at this, his expression quite shocked. Was this man absurd? “Why are you apologizing? Don’t!” Suga reprimanded gently. The stranger let out a single, breathy laugh, then scratched his cheek before pointing the same finger at his sketchbook. “I meant sorry if I’m disturbing you, over there, with your, er, art.” 

Suga blinked. “Huh?” He didn’t understand. 

“I-I mean…” The other made an awkward face that made Suga want to laugh with glee. “I get that sometimes… when someone’s watching, I can’t really work or function properly… You know? It’s like, I get all nervous and stuff, and stop. It only happened when I was starting out, but performing in public so many times helped with that… But, uh, artists aren’t usually being watched like this, right?” 

Suga nodded. 

“Yeah, so uh, if you want me to leave so you can… do you—that is, do your… art thing, I can leave. I’d hate to disturb you…” 

“Oh! Oh, no, it’s fine!” Suga waved his hands and made a smile, hoping to ease the other’s troubles. “It’s honestly no big deal! I wasn’t even paying attention to this, I was just bored so my hands just started moving on its own, so… you’ve saved me from boredom! I need to thank you for that, and you certainly don’t need to apologize!” Suga grinned at the end. To prove that he really wasn’t being ‘disturbed’ or bothered by the man’s presence, he closed his book and hid that and his pencil away in his bag. He wanted to wholly focus on the stranger anyway, and he hoped that the case was true for the other; he didn’t want that dumb drawing to capture the man’s attention, it wasn’t worthy. As he was doing this, he heard a gasp. 

“You weren’t even paying attention while drawing that?!” Suga looked at him, and they both blinked their wide eyes. “That’s impressive! It looks so professionally drawn too! You’re so talented!” 

Suga’s shoulders shook for the briefest of glances, and he hoped that the small action wasn’t caught. “I-I’m not.” He assured the stranger, making a humble face. “I’m not even very passionate about art, that was just… a whim, if you will. There are so many that are better than me, that little bird is nothing compared to true talent.”

“Don’t be so modest, I do know what talent is like!” The other encouraged. “And you have it! Don’t set yourself down like that.” 

Suga felt nothing at those words. They were common words to motivate those who were simply inferior, no need to beat around the bush. Those who weren’t good enough were always told they were just to cheer them up, to push them to strive harder and become greater. Suga loved those words at first, yet he could never improve. Nothing had changed then and now, the words never changed either. They were still the same, still inspirational, still stereotypical, still irritating. He heard them so many times, yet every time, he only disappoints.

“Thanks.” Suga left it at that, wanted to leave it at that, and so hurried to tread to lighter topics. “You are…?” Ah, so many new people. The joys of stepping out for spicy tofu. 

“Sawamura Daichi. Daichi. Call me Daichi.” The other man gestured with a nod of his head to Suga. “And you?” 

His name felt strong, sounded it too. Suga wanted to hold the hand that was outstretched to him forever, wanted appreciate the strength in the thick fingers and calloused skin forever, but let go after a single shake. “Sugawara Koushi. Suga is fine. So call me that too, alright?” 

Daichi made a mock pout. Suga could tell it was fake, because he didn’t look all that dejected, there was light in his eyes. A mischievous light in those dark eyes. “Awh, I was hoping to call you something else.” 

Suga’s eyebrows lifted, as well as the corner of his lips. “Oh? Like what?” 

Daichi’s expression shifted into something reluctant and shy. “Hoping to call you in the form of a number, maybe.” Suga noticed Daichi’s eyes flick to his phone and back to Suga. Suga felt the need to shut his eyes, because honestly, this star was far too blinding. Instead, he shut them and opened them in a total of three times, before giving a coherent “Oh.” 

“Sorry if that was a little random, or too quick, but… ah.” Daichi was so embarrassed it made Suga want to squeal. He contained the urge perfectly well. “Just wanted to be your friend. If that’s okay.” 

“Perfectly okay.” Suga didn’t realize he whispered. A little louder, he said, “It’s okay!”And he grinned sheepishly. He fished around in his bag for his own phone, and upon removal held it in his hands. He gripped it tightly, just to help him contain the undeniable giggle that wanted to escape his giddy lips. Control, control, control. The minute he opened his mouth, that giggle of his slipped. He cursed his lack of control. “Your—” Giggle. “—number?” 

Daichi laughed back, and quickly, but not hastily, they exchanged numbers. Suga smiled as he memorized the digits, though knew he’d forget them as quickly as he forgot his mother’s. Thankfully he had both Daichi and his mother as contacts. He set Daichi’s nickname as ‘(∩ ˉ ˘ ˉ)⊃ Daichi’ and quietly giggled some more. He hasn’t been this happy about adding contacts in a while. 

Daichi tucked his phone away in his pocket, and Suga had never felt so lost as he searched those dark chocolate eyes of his. He was brought out of that maze when Daichi spoke. “Already ordered?” 

“Ah, yeah.” Suga nodded. “I ordered some mapo tofu.” 

Daichi flinched. “Isn’t that really spicy?” 

Suga pouted, offended. “I can handle it just fine!” He huffed. “I love it because it’s really spicy!” He was taken back to the moment minutes prior where another also judged him for his preference in food. Speaking of, where was both his waiter and his food? 

“Ah, Asahi!” Daichi’s head turned when the waiter returned to Suga’s table. In his hands was a tray with a bowl, and inside the bowl was Suga’s treasure, his baby, whatever you called the most important thing in the world. Once Asahi had set down the bowl and eating tools in front of Suga, he immediately dove right in and began to eat. Of course, he did so in a composed manner, albeit a little faster than normal. Though normally he’d pay attention to his one and only, he made the effort to tune in to whatever it was Asahi and Daichi were talking about. 

“Daichi-san, hello again.” Asahi said, rubbing the back of his head. Daichi crossed his arms, smiling at the giant. “I already told you that just Daichi is fine. There isn’t even an age gap between us! If I remind you one more time I’m seriously going to smack some sense into you.” Asahi’s smile crumbled and he whimpered out a “Da-Daichi…” He was rewarded with a smack anyway. Suga only felt a shred of guilt for Asahi. 

“Ah, but I thought your performance was scheduled for tomorrow?” Asahi’s voice contained a question that intrigued Suga, and so he perked from his meal. He didn’t want to seem obvious in his obvious eavesdropping, so he continued to eat, his eyes and head only a little raised. 

“Yeah, I just came to eat. I’ve been craving again.” Daichi’s laugh made him shiver, but Suga had mistaken the sensation as the spiciness irritating his throat. “It always happens the day before I perform… Mind if I get the usual?” Asahi shook his head, he didn’t mind. “I’ll get it for you, Daichi.” He left with a tender smile. 

When Asahi was out of sight, Suga glanced up and chewed and swallowed a piece in his mouth. He gave Daichi a curious look. “Performance?” He had mentioned his nerves of performing in front of an audience a little earlier, but Suga didn’t quite ask for details. “You perform?” 

Daichi nodded, placing his elbows on the table. “Yeah, nothing too large, nothing too popular. Not even considered a concert.” His palm rubbed the back of his neck. “I just play a few songs here sometimes. On that stage over there.” His other hand pointed towards a polished, elevated platform that was at the center of and against the wall of the establishment. Suga just noticed it now; when he had come in earlier, the stage was blocked by a large group of standing teenagers poking fun at each other so his eyes strayed everywhere but there. When he saw the black stage and the microphone stand, Suga’s excitement flared. Was Daichi going to sing? Play a song? He must know. “Tomorrow, right?” Suga confirmed, and Daichi nodded his head several times, still looking rather flustered. “It’s a weekly thing, I come here on certain days, depending on the schedules. Some regulars enjoy it, I guess—I hope? The families and kids like it, at least, I think they do.” Suga wanted to capture that smile, he wanted to hold stars within his palms, cherish the constellation. 

“I’ll be sure to enjoy it then.” Suga remarked. Daichi laughed. “If you say it like that, it’s as if you’re just forcing yourself to like my performance, and you haven’t even heard yet!” Suga hummed. “Then maybe I should listen for myself?” 

“Please.” A breath said. 

Suga finished his mapo tofu silently. “I’ll come then.” His eyes wandered to Daichi’s, and in that cloudless night, the sky was illuminated so brightly with burning stars. “And… I’ll call you.” 

Another wind, a quiet one, filled with relief. “Please.” 

Suga wanted to be in Daichi’s world.

A world that wasn’t lacking color.


	2. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It occurred to Suga that he had been holding his breath waiting for Daichi’s message for almost four minutes. How did he survive? How was he able to breathe?
> 
> His chest felt just fine, for it tightened and relaxed with the happiness of his heart.

He painted with blue today.

Blue was an easy color to work with. One of the three primary colors. Used for almost anything, seen almost everywhere. Blue was wide and vast. Suga found it wasn’t as difficult as he initially thought when he used it. His brush flowed smoothly across the paper, weaving and cutting lines, creating rivers that ran, it was peaceful. It was almost effortless, he felt, as he waved with this color.

He stopped when his phone gave a cheerful ding. Immediately, he set down his tools and took his phone, forgetting the stains on his hands. He smiled brightly when he saw the name on the notification.

‘(∩ ˉ ˘ ˉ)⊃ Daichi’

There was a message waiting for him, and Suga didn’t plan to keep the man waiting. He read it, holding his breath as he did.

“Still up for later?”   
03:26 PM  
XX/XX/2016

Suga nodded, blushing at his own childish excitement.

“yea, totally! 7 rite? (^ω^) i’ll def be there!”   
03:26 PM  
XX/XX/2016

“Actually, are you okay coming a little earlier?”  
03:27 PM   
XX/XX/2016

Suga blinked, his fingers travelling across his keypad as he typed a nervous response. His thumb always had to frantically thump to delete some awkward words, so he settled with a simple phrase.

“why? (◦p◦)??”   
03:29 PM   
XX/XX/2016

Daichi took a while too. Suga couldn’t tell if his heart was sinking or floating.

“I kinda want to treat you to dinner.”  
03:31 PM  
XX/XX/2016

Suga’s heart breached the surface, and he gasped for air.

“seriously??”   
03:31 PM  
XX/XX/2016

“Yes, Suga, seriously.”   
“Unless that’s awkward? If it is, you don’t have to agree.”   
03:32 PM  
XX/XX/2016

Suga’s silver curls swished as he shook his head.

“no! it’s fine! dinner sounds great!! ٩(*>▽<*)۶”  
03:32 PM  
XX/XX/2016

Suga’s smile wavered with unparalleled joy. He squeaked when he received a reply.

“That’s great. :) What’s a good time to meet up?”  
“It should be before 7, haha.”   
03:33 PM  
XX/XX/2016

Suga contemplated this for a moment.

“how about 6 ish? not too early for dinner, right?”  
03:34 PM  
XX/XX/2016

“Perfect.”  
“Oh shoot, what restaurant do you want to go to?”   
03:34 PM  
XX/XX/2016

Suga’s chest bubbled in a frenzied splatter of emotions. They had only met yesterday, but already, Daichi was being kind and considerate towards him. He knew he shouldn’t, it was far too early, but he felt as if we were being treated like a chest of treasure, loved and longed for, and cherished. It made him feel special.

“anywhere cheap? i’m not picky!”   
03:34 PM  
XX/XX/2016

Suga felt the need to add something.

“ah but i like spicy food! and ramen!!”   
“and also seafood oh oh and a place that has good grilled chicken!”   
03:35 PM  
XX/XX/2016

Suga flushed when he realized how picky he was being, and hurriedly sent another message.

“^^^that’s just my preferences tho ok lol i’m okay with anything honest (￢ω￢);;”   
03:35 PM  
XX/XX/2016

“It’s fine. I’ll keep that in mind as I look for a place.”   
“I’ll text you the details in a bit?”  
03:36 PM  
XX/XX/2016

“okay!! (ˉ ˘ ˉ)b”   
03:36 PM  
XX/XX/2016

Suga set down his phone, fingers lightly surfing across the black screen as he awaited his response. He was smiling the whole time.

‘(∩ ˉ ˘ ˉ)⊃ Daichi’ resurfaced once again.

“How about at XXX? Not too far from the station.”   
“Should be a quick taxi ride from there to Karasuno.”   
03:40 PM  
XX/XX/2016

It occurred to Suga that he had been holding his breath waiting for Daichi’s message for almost four minutes. How did he survive? How was he able to breathe?

His chest felt just fine, for it tightened and relaxed with the happiness of his heart.

“sounds good! i’ll see you around the station at.. maybe 6 rite?”  
03:40 PM  
XX/XX/2016

“Yeah, txt me whenever you get there, I’ll look for you.”   
“Can’t wait. ;)”  
03:41 PM  
XX/XX/2016

Suga froze.

That was a winky face.

Daichi sent him a winky face.

It took a moment for it to sink in, and when it finally did, he dragged himself to the light and yelled out an anxious and excited squeal.

Suga, a mature adult, felt bubbly over a mere winky face.

But hey, Suga argued, it was next to the words ‘can’t wait,’ which must be the primary source of all this giddiness within him.

Still, it was a winky face.

“neither can i \\(*ˊᗜˋ*)/ but at least its only two more hours!!”   
03:41 PM  
XX/XX/2016

“Haha, yeah, see you then, Suga.”   
03:41 PM  
XX/XX/2016

“see you!!! (>ω<)”   
03:42 PM  
XX/XX/2016

And finally, Suga released his phone from his grasp, landing into a nearby chair as he did so.

Two hours, Suga recollected, two hours and our date. Wait, could he even call it that? Daichi was certainly a catch, but what was Suga? A mere rock available on any beach. What did he have to offer to this handsome, talented man? Suga brought his knees to his chest, blowing out a soft sigh that would’ve certainly rocked no sails.

Two hours, Suga recollected, two hours have passed.

Suga tried to look as refined as he could without making it seem like he tried too hard to please. He just wanted to impress Daichi, not scare him with his unnecessarily panicky tendencies. He just really wanted to impress Daichi. He went along with a simple sweater, some skinny jeans, sneakers, and a cardigan should it be too cold during the dark.

He sent Daichi a message as he approached one of the station’s exits. He looked around, biting his lip, as he awaited a response. He received one, and he hurried to find the brunette. He found him, and immediately, he knew he was doomed.

Daichi was certainly attempting to lure him into danger, with his flawless face, plain blue buttoned shirt and jeans, spare jersey, guitar case strapped around him, and his perfect everything. Daichi was certainly going to be the death of Suga. He was being unknowingly enticed by Daichi’s charm and it will kill him, he knows it.

Daichi saw him, and he waved. Suga waved back, feeling light as he stepped closer to the taller, relishing in this moment of closeness. They exchanged pleasant greetings, in which Suga simply had to compliment Daichi’s attire, and a fumbling Daichi did the same. Suga’s heart teemed with joy as they made their way to their restaurant.

The establishment was nice. They had a variety of foods on their menu, though most were more expensive than their size and worth. Suga settled on simple spicy dishes, mostly soup and a side of salad, while Daichi chose something that involved stew and pork. The two ate comfortably, enjoying their food, exchanging a few quiet jokes and small talk. Suga got to learn more about Daichi, and Daichi learned more about him. They only shared the basics, like their favorite foods, preferred music tastes, high school, position in their volleyball team, and more that most would know after a couple of encounters. That’s the thing, though. Suga wanted to know more.

“Hey, Daichi?” Suga began, twirling a straw within his fingers. Daichi looked at him, the chopsticks holding his meat slowly returning to the plate, stopping so that Daichi could smile at him. “Yeah?”

“Why’d you start performing?” Suga then kept his eyes on the ice in his tea, watching as it clinked against the glass when pushed by the straw. “Sorry if it’s a personal question, but… I’m curious.”

Daichi took a moment to eat the neglected piece of meat. He chewed and swallowed, his smile never fading. “Honestly, I never really wanted to begin to play publicly.” He admitted. “I thought I was an amateur, I mean—I don’t play professionally, nor have I really thought about doing it… It’s just a hobby, really. Something I picked up post high school. I thought it would help me score, me being able to serenade a girl—or boy.” He coughed out the last two words, and Suga blushed when Daichi blushed. “But I never did like performing for someone.”

“Then…” Suga unconsciously leaned forward, closer. “What made you change your mind?”

“The manager was a friend of my dad’s, and while the two of them were home—I still hadn’t moved out yet—I just started playing out of boredom. While in conversation, they heard me and he asked if I ever performed on stage. I said ‘No, of course not, I just started,’ and his eyes blew so wide I thought he had a stroke!”

Suga felt bad for giggling.

“He said I had talent, and he wanted to help me perfect it. I really didn’t want to. I had someone teach me how to play the guitar, but it was still so uncomfortable for me to play in front of him. Once I got the basics down, I let him off and told him I’d be on my own. I kinda got the hang of it, but whenever someone saw me with it they would ask if I played, and then I’d say ‘Yes,’ and then they’d ask if I could play for them, and always—always—I had to politely decline. Just thinking about playing a song made me shake back then, like… I couldn’t breathe.”

Suga wanted to reach out a hand and hold Daichi’s, but he realized his hands were occupied; one was still holding chopsticks while the other was on his lap. Suga took back his hand and nonchalantly brushed his hair. He hoped Daichi didn’t notice.

“Anyway… the manager heard me, and suggested I play at his restaurant. He said performances were slowly declining, and he needed new entertainment.” Daichi used the hand on his lap to now rub his shoulder. “I didn’t want to, but he was so encouraging and so motivational that I couldn’t help but say ‘Yes.’ He was quite persistent, too! I feared for my life the first time I stepped on that stage, but… it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Surprisingly, I didn’t make any major mistakes, and… I got a lot of praise once I got off. So many people asked if I was experienced, and when I said ‘No,’ they all looked like they were having a stroke!”

“Haha!” Suga giggled, no remorse in his tone.

Daichi’s lips were fond. “And then… I don’t know, it became enjoyable. It helped me open up… and… I learned to appreciate music, art… and talent more. I loved coming in to play, and check this out—I even make my own songs! They all always ask if I’ll ever have a CD out, haha! I wish!” Daichi laughed, and Suga did so with him.

“I’m glad it worked out for you.” Suga said, grinning wide. “I’m so glad that you’re able to love music and yourself more. I’m so thrilled to see my own first Dai-formance!”

“Dai-formance?” Daichi sputtered.

“Yeah!” Suga raised his glass. “I mean, your performance may be so good I just might die from a stroke!”

“Oh, har har.” Daichi’s eyes lowered quietly, and Suga wondered for a scared second if he had offended him. “That’d be a shame.”

“Eh?” Suga sipped from the straw, drinking his tea.

“How else would I take you on future dates if I murdered you with my killer performance?”

Suga wanted to spit but like any reserved gentleman he kept it to himself, gulping loudly.

Okay, if a winky face in the form of a text already managed to send him flying across the ocean, what could a winky face in the flesh do to him?

It plunged him into a sea of emotions; the good kind, the type that made you want to actually suck it all in, keep it all to yourself, and treasure it for as long as your lived. Suga wanted to drown.

Daichi was certainly going to kill him. Not that Suga minded.

“Ah… ah, what time is it?” Suga stammered out, cursing the breathlessness that resulted from his dive.

Daichi peeked at his wristwatch. “Quarter ‘til seven.” He replied. He appeared awkward, his little comment had been blown away, rather, it was ignored. Suga didn’t notice. His eyes widened.

“R-really?!”Suga set his tea down and stood abruptly. “Your performance! It’s almost time!”

Daichi blinked. “Wh—ah, right!” He gathered his case and jacket as he stood and exited the booth they were in. “I’ll go pay and call a cab. Mind waiting near the entrance for me?” Suga nodded, then waited by the door as Daichi told him. He shivered against the chilly vapor of the deepening night, shrugging on his cardigan. Daichi followed him out soon after, shivering as well. They waited there, and when their taxi had arrived, both sighed, eased, as they entered the warm atmosphere of the taxi.

The drive was short, as Daichi expected, but it was better than a walk through the cold night. Daichi paid their driver generously. He walked Suga to the doors of Karasuno, and even held it open for him. Suga nodded him a thanks, stepping in.

He noticed the difference in the number of people now compared to the number yesterday. It could be because of the convenience of time, more people were available during evenings, or probably because Daichi was performing tonight. Suga knew it should be the latter.

As they strolled in, Suga noticed Daichi’s head turning every so often. His eyes mostly stayed around the stage area. Was he nervous? Suga opened his mouth to tell him reassuring words, but his voice was caught in his throat when Daichi suddenly held his hand.

“How about you sit over there?” Daichi pointed with his other finger. “Closer to the stage, that table with two chairs. I’ll join you there when I’m done with my performance—oh! And go ahead and order desserts if you’re still hungry. It’s my treat.”

Suga could only nod dumbly. “Okay…” Was what he said, but all he could hear was _hand, hand, hand._

Daichi led him to the place he spot out, and when asked what Suga wanted to eat, Suga replied, “A parfait would be nice.” Daichi pulled Asahi aside (rather roughly) and told him Suga’s order, and after a quick exchange of pleasantries between Suga and Asahi, the waiter left, as well as Daichi.

Suga watched him go to the stage, eyes focusing on nothing but Daichi. He watched as he set up slowly, pulling the stool over to the center of the stage, dragging the microphone stand closer and lowering it, taking his case and removing his guitar, wrapping the strap around him and letting it rest against his lap as he sat down, watching as he sent a tender smile towards Suga, and he enjoyed every single movement.

Daichi tested the microphone, indicating the start of his performance. He coughed into it, whispering a tentative “1, 2, 3… Testing, testing…” as he awkwardly fumbled with it, bringing it closer so that his ‘1, 2, 3’ was more audible, clearer. After that, he greeted the crowd that was listening, which was small, but loyal to him. They became quiet once he started with a “Good evening, everyone.”

“How is everyone doing?” Daichi asked, and he got a few nods and “Good” and “Great” in return. “I’m glad that you’re all having a good time. Please enjoy your food as you listen to… ah, the food’s good, so if you are turned off by my music, please blame me if you find that you have a loss of appetite. But, I really do hope you’ll enjoy what you’re about to hear. And again, blame me for any distaste you may experience, not the wonderful food.”

“People will blame you if they have a stroke in the middle of your Dai-formance.” Suga whispered, chuckling to himself.

“And, oh!” Daichi’s smile broadened. “Tonight’s performance is a little different, probably why I feel so nervous, haha…” He blinked and looked down, then raised his eyes to stare at Suga. “This song is dedicated to… my date, a wonderful, talented man. We just met yesterday, just had our first dinner today, but already… I feel as if we’ll go places.”

Suga didn’t know if he himself was having a stroke or if his heart was beating so fast he wasn’t able to feel it anymore.

“He’s amazing, and I can tell that with just a few moments and a dinner together that he’s perfect. He’s so, so great. I just want to prove how much I like him through… this song. I hope you like it, Suga.”

Suga shook his head in disbelief. How could he not love it?

Daichi begun.

_“Come by me.”_ His fingers glided across the strings, producing a melody foreign to Suga’s ears, but he welcomed them eagerly, accepting them. _“Let me sing to you a tale from the deep.”_

Suga closed his eyes. He imagined this. He stood, approaching Daichi, feet hopping across the sand. It was hot, and the grains left a tingling, numbing sensation whenever he landed, but he didn’t mind.

_“Stand by me.”_ The simple tune was so brief, but that made Suga want, beg, for more. Please, let it surround him in a complex, large wave, don’t just drift by him without trouble. Let it be bold. _“Let me hold you to the promises of the deep.”_

Suga stood by Daichi, smiling at him. He let Daichi take his hand, his heart a rapid current that refused to slow. Daichi kissed the back of his hand, thumb brushing across Suga’s knuckles.

_“Sit by me.”_ Daichi’s eyes never felt Suga’s, and Suga want to drink in all the emotions pouring out of his voice. _“Let me tell you something you’re sure to keep.”_

Suga giggled, leaning down. Daichi maneuvered Suga’s palm so that it then rested on the man’s cheek, and Suga kept it there, caressing the skin softly, admiring him. He leaned in close, Daichi straightening up.

_“Embrace me.”_ Suga held Daichi close, his voice ringing soothing tones in his ears, drowning out all sound besides him, besides Daichi. _“I will be your air in this love so deep.”_

Suga couldn’t breathe. He was falling, flailing, surrounded by nothing but being consumed by everything. He opened his mouth, but he was suffocating. He choked on emptiness, reaching out into what he couldn’t see, and realized all too clearly what was happening. Why he felt so hopeless, why he couldn’t move, why he couldn’t save himself. Suga stopped resisting after this, letting himself sink into the abyss that welcomed him.

Asahi stopped by his table, setting down his dessert. He made a concerned expression when he saw Suga. “Is something wrong, Suga-san?”

Suga’s hand clutched his shirt, his fingers clutched his heart. “I can’t breathe.” It was so inaudible that even he didn’t realize he spoke.

“What?” Asahi prodded, his frown worried.

_“Let me sing to you a tale from the deep.”_

“I’m drowning.” Suga smiled. He never wanted to emerge, never wanted to recover his breath. He will let Daichi be his air.

Suga wanted to drown in Daichi’s voice.

A voice that was as captivating as an ocean’s blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!!   
> please inform me if you find any mistakes;;   
> hope you're enjoying the work!! have a good day~ づ￣ ³￣)づ <3


	3. Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thinking this, Suga still couldn’t deny the desire for Daichi to pluck him, to take him. Before he wilted, before he rotted, let someone be captivated for at least a moment. Let someone appreciate him and notice his worth. Don’t let his petals rot without love. At least before he withered, he would know that someone truly cared, even for a split second. He wanted someone to love him so strongly that they desired to make him their own.

He painted with green today. 

He let this color grow wide and far across the blank space. He wove his brush around, humming Daichi’s song as he tangled tails of vines and leaves. He spun around, touching the land with green. The color was so calming to use, untainted and peaceful and bringing life to his world. There was just something about green, something hidden within it or perhaps displayed outwardly, that Suga found incredibly friendly, this genial color. Suga hummed. He hasn’t been this jolly in a while, Suga noticed, and it was probably because of a certain someone that he was able to weave like this. 

His phone rang. He ended his dance and set down the brush carefully, putting it away in a safe place as he reached for his phone. He wiped his fingers before answering. 

“Hey, Daichi!” Suga greeted immediately. He heard a chuckle on the other end. “Hi, Suga.” 

Suga sat on his stool, playing with his hair, twirling a strand with his finger. “What’re you up to?” 

“Nothing much.” Daichi answered honestly. “You?” 

“Ah… painting.” Suga was bashful to admit that, but Daichi doesn’t know the reason as to why he was. He might know eventually, if Suga ever grew the courage to tell him. He will, he knew, when enough time passed. 

“That’s nice.” Daichi’s pleasant voice said, and already, Suga felt that winged beast flap its wings, preparing for flight. “So… will you be painting most of the day? Will you be busy later?” 

It rustled, anxious to leave the ground. “Why? Have something in mind? Something that involves me?” 

“Yea, specifically you.” The butterfly got into position. “And only you.” It flew. 

“Oh.” Suga gasped, releasing the insect, but even with its absence, he still felt fluttery, tingly. 

“Yeah.” Did Daichi suffer from butterflies too? 

“What did you have in mind?” Suga asked. 

“To be honest, I didn’t plan so well this time.” Daichi admitted. “I was just hoping we could… walk around town? Go to the park? Catch a movie? I don’t know, but I’ll let you drag me around, if you want.” 

“I want that.” Suga breathed. “I mean—the date, I want the date. Yes. Please.” 

Daichi laughed, and the sound floated in Suga’s ears. “That’s good.” He heard shuffling on the other line, tilting his head, but didn’t question it. “What time should I pick you up?” 

Suga thought about it. “Maybe… in half an hour? I already put away my paints when you called.” Suga smiled. “Just need to freshen up, okay? Drop by my place by then?” 

Daichi knew his address because he’d kindly walked Suga home last night. They both held hands chastely, innocent affection on their lips and in their eyes. Daichi kept squeezing Suga’s hand, and Suga’s chest squeezed in return. It was lovely. Suga was sad to leave Daichi once they reached his home. 

“Sure.” Daichi replied. “See you then, Suga.” More shuffling noises. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way, okay?” 

“Okay, bye, Daichi.” And their call ended. The butterfly relaxed and returned home, slowing down, sleeping now. Suga let out a breath. Another date, and so quickly after their first. Suga didn’t mind, he was absolutely ecstatic. He truly did like Daichi, and he wanted nothing more than for their relationship to form fruits. He was excited. 

As he had told Daichi, he began to prepare. He took a brief shower, freshened himself with proper and necessary hygiene, and dressed himself lightly and casually. It seemed like a sunny day out. Not much clouds, so the plants will certainly enjoy their fill of light. Suga felt he needed his own fill of light as well, and so went with a short-sleeved pale shirt and black skinny jeans that hugged his skinny form tightly, his suspenders somewhat loose however. He figured this was okay. Something simple like this would be perfect for a date when anything could happen, right? Right. 

He checked his watch. Twenty or more minutes have passed since Daichi’s call. He still had time, so he played a game on his phone. Eventually, he heard the awaited knock at his door. He stood to greet the person behind it, smiling. “Hey.” Daichi said, and Suga reached forward to hug him. He held him softly. “Hiya.” Suga greeted back. 

He unwrapped his arms and gave Daichi a smile. “Lemme slip on some shoes and grab my bag, okay?” Daichi nodded an “Okay.” Suga quickly stole a small bag from the table and slipped on a pair of converse, then returned to the man at his door, grinning. “Ready!” 

“Awesome.” Daichi said. Suga let Daichi step out first and followed him, locking his door and slipping the key into his bag. They embarked on their journey, leaving behind Suga’s home and stepping into a brighter world. The sun immediately hit Suga with the force of an intense bear hug that wrapped around him, and he could only lift a hand to shield his eyes. “It sure is hot.” He choked out. Daichi agreed. Suga noticed he dressed lightly as well. “It really is. Will you be okay?” 

“I’m not a baby.” Suga poked him sharply, and Daichi gasped, chuckling as he rubbed the spot as if he was kissed there. “No, but you’re my baby.” 

“Oh my god, this date is over.” Suga stopped, but it was only so that he could catch his breath from his fit of giggles. Daichi came to him and placed a hand on his arm. “Oh, no, it’s not. We haven’t even started yet. I’m not letting you go home on a bad note—on a bad joke.” 

Suga quirked an eyebrow at him. “Good luck trying to win my favor then, Sawamura Daichi.” 

“Haven’t I already?” Suga blinked, realizing he was staring, and looked away, hearing birds as his heart tweeted the truth. He uttered a shaky laugh. “There’s room for improvement.” 

Daichi gave him a look, now letting his hand grab Suga’s, taking it gently, intertwining their fingers. They fit well together, filled the empty spaces and it felt nice. “Then you admit that I’ve won at least a little bit?” 

“A ‘D’ isn’t a passing grade, Daichi.” Suga yanked him and pressed their lips together briefly, and though he practically slammed Daichi into himself, the touch of their mouths was chaste and tender, flowery. He smelled good. “Work harder.” Daichi, stunned, mumbled a dumb “Okay.” 

They wandered around the shopping district for a while. It was a tentative time of day, most were indoors, kids were out in the grass playing games, and Suga’s stomach was growling. He wanted to flee from this heat. “Daichi, is it time for food yet?”

“I could buy us ice cream?” Daichi offered, and Suga nodded, grinning. Daichi led them to an outside stand that served ice cream. It was stationed outside of a dessert shop. Probably to tend to those wandering about outdoors and couldn’t stand the heat, those that were too lazy to walk in. Suga asked for a mint chocolate chip, and Daichi treated himself with something coffee-flavored. Suga was allowed to taste Daichi’s, claiming the flavor was odd and should stay as a beverage rather than a soft cream snack. “It’s better warm.” Suga insisted. Daichi shrugged. “I like iced coffee, personally.” 

They wandered further away from populated shops and closer to nature. They followed a cement path that led through a park, quiet and peaceful. They were holding hands, fingers twined together, Suga was blissful. Here, large trees gave them shade and cast shadows across Daichi, but not that he was staring at the attractive man. Yes, he told himself, he was not admiring the way the leaves left dark, swishing imprints on Daichi’s skin, nor was he studying how bright, shy, and alive his smile looked. He wanted to keep it, but he shouldn’t rush growth. Slowly but surely, Suga reminded himself. The seedling will only grow with proper care and nourishment, not with an overdose. Yes, an overdose could kill. 

Thinking this, Suga still couldn’t deny the desire for Daichi to pluck him, to take him. Before he wilted, before he rotted, let someone be captivated for at least a moment. Let someone appreciate him and notice his worth. Don’t let his petals rot without love. At least before he withered, he would know that someone truly cared, even for a split second. He wanted someone to love him so strongly that they desired to make him their own.

Suga squeezed Daichi’s hand. “Let’s sit? We’ve been walking for a while.” Daichi nodded, then guided them to an isolated bench beside a large tree in bloom. Suga relaxed, a breath leaving his lips as he settled. 

“Thirsty?” Daichi asked, sitting beside him. Suga nodded. He was a bit parched, his petals insisted, but not only because of their seemingly endless trek throughout the town, but also because they’ve been talking the whole way! How many times has Suga laughed today? It hurt to count. Too much. Too many jokes, and majority of them bad ones. 

Daichi reached into the bag he wore and removed a water bottle. “Here.” He said. “Though, I don’t think warm water will satisfy you in weather like this. Do you want something out of a vending machine instead?” 

Suga shook his head. “This is fine.” He smiled, taking it and sipping its contents. After gulping down the necessity, he returned it to Daichi, who placed the bottle back in his bag. Suga gave him a worried look. “Aren’t you thirsty?” He asked, and Daichi shook his head, wrapping an arm around Suga’s shoulders. “You keep me hydrated.” 

A pleasant red blossomed on Suga. “I can’t believe you.” He hissed, embarrassed. “That’s just another way to say I make you wet, Daichi. What the hell.” Daichi breathed a laugh, then leaned down, lips puckered, towards Suga. “You love me.” Daichi insisted, and Suga craned his head away, giggling. “Not with your terrible sex jokes.” Daichi’s eyes blew wide as he straightened, mouth opened, aghast. “They’re not even meant to be sexual! They’re innocent, just like my love for you!” Daichi seemed offended, but even so, he placed his other hand on Suga’s leg. “You’re the one who’s taking their meaning and twisting them into something sinful. How dare you.” 

“How are you a lyricist with your choice of words? Unbelievable.” Suga sighed, then covered Daichi’s hand with his own. “Though, I admit that maybe I am expecting too much. I’m getting ahead of myself.” 

“Ah, then you’re not the only one.” The winged creature tripped in place. Suga faltered with it. His petals fluttered, nervous, and he looked down. “Oh.” Was all he could utter. 

“What time is it?” Suga asked, blinking at Daichi. The man glanced at his wrist. He gave Suga a smile, enticing him. “Just turned two, wanna go stroll some more before we catch that movie?” 

Suga smiled brightly. “I’d like that.” He said, already standing. “Let’s stay around the park? The green calms me down.” 

Daichi nodded, standing with him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. He gave Suga a smile, trapping him. “Let’s walk over there.” He pointed to a cluster of large trees, leaves and petals bright and full. There was no path that led through it, only soft grass. Neither Daichi nor Suga prepared a blanket to sit and lay on, so as they sank into the endless green, they were heavily relieved to find its angelic texture tickling their skin as they tickled each other. 

Suga, resting on his side and an arm around Daichi’s waist, laughed as a hand played with his cheek. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked Daichi, nuzzling himself into the grass. Daichi chuckled at Suga’s cute reaction, a thumb brushing across the mark on Suga’s cheek. “Admiring you.” He gave Suga a smile.

“What is there to admire?” Suga questioned, curious. 

“Everything.” Daichi said, and came closer. He tingled with joy, drinking in the way the artist’s heart, alive, shook with a tender force that only Daichi could strike it with, because only he was allowed. Suga’s petals blushed, then he closed his eyes as Daichi leaned in. 

He gave Suga a smile, devouring him. 

Suga’s gasps were short, his petals were flushed an impossible shade, and Daichi still tortured him so by adoring him the way he did. He did not want to capture his immortal beauty by plucking him, by capturing him, taking him so that he belonged to him and only him. For some odd reason, Daichi let him live freely, he let his soul be unrestrained by any cage, he let him blossom and grow, and eventually die. Suga made a whimper at this; does Daichi not want him forever?

“Suga…” Daichi’s voice was there, wavering, gentle, caring. “Suga, if I asked you…” He stopped himself. 

“Wh-what?” Suga pressed, moving his hand to now place on Daichi’s face. He gasped pleasantly when Daichi moved, now resting above Suga, hands on either side of his body, staring into the glass that held the seed that awaited the proper nourishment for growth. He stared into them, long and hard, and Suga quivered, afraid for his heart. “What is it?” 

“If I asked you to stay by my side…” Daichi lowered himself, pressing against the flower’s silver leaves, stroking them gently with his lips. “Would you do it?” 

Suga understood now. Daichi didn’t want to keep him trapped because there was room for so much growth, so much more development for him, for Daichi, for them. It didn’t matter if Suga was captured in some sort of eternal form for Daichi to admire endlessly because the real, living, breathing him was right here, already belonging to him without the need for some collar, for him to ravish physically, rather than love him from afar. Suga was here, Suga existed, and that was all that mattered, because at the moment, all that mattered and existed to either of them was that moment, and that alone. 

“Yes.” The seed was born into a lustrous plant, which then grew and produced colorful flowers, bearing abundant fruits. Sweet, tasty, these juices were addicting on Suga’s tongue, and he craved it. Daichi’s own passion budded into something beautiful, and Suga couldn’t help but want to capture it himself.

At least, he thought as he moaned from Daichi’s touch and fluttery sensation, it will be captured within my heart. 

His beating heart. 

The butterfly returned home, but it also still beat. 

Suga wanted to treasure their shared garden of passion. 

A garden buzzing with an effervescent green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took a while to post, was kinda busy ヾ(*´△｀*)ﾉ  
> not edited well, so if you find any mistakes, please do tell me! 
> 
> hope you're enjoying the work!!


	4. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fire did not only affect sight. It didn’t only cloud his vision, made him see red, it affected his entire being. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t feel. Suga gasped, his throat screeching for comfort. Suga closed his eyes, his ears begging for relief. Suga couldn’t take his hands away, his skin crawling with fear.

He painted with red today.

Suga never quite understood this fire. It swayed with an anxious fervor, but was it only because it was forced to flow with time, or did it move of its own free, careless will? Was it afraid, or was it fearless? Was it rising, or was it failing? What was this fire’s purpose? What did it exist for? Did it burn, or was it dispassionate? Still, without any knowledge of this strange color, Suga created beautiful, outstanding strokes with it. The color stood out on his canvas, and Suga stopped, lowering his brush, eyebrow quirking. It confused him, was this color clawing its way to the front, or did it earn its place from the beginning?

A knock came at his door. Relieved to let his brain relax from all the questions reeling inside of it, he placed his tools down and removed his apron to drape over his stool, then made his way to his door. What stood there was another being he didn’t quite understand, but yearned to do so. He grinned. “Hey, Daichi!”

“Hi.” The two hugged for a moment, two, and three more, then released after a kiss. Daichi combed Suga’s hair, noticing his apron stained with dry color. “Were you painting again?”

“Ah… yeah!” Suga nodded, hesitant, then looked at Daichi’s own attire to distract himself. He wore a casual suit, accentuated by casual colors like gray and white. “Where have you been dressed like that?”

“Nowhere special.” Daichi told him, bringing the artist close once more, hugging him tight. “Just came from work, actually.”

“Office?” Suga supplied, and Daichi answered “Bingo.”

“You should come in.” Suga grabbed Daichi’s hand and guided him inside effortlessly. Daichi removed his shoes and uttered a polite greeting as he ventured inside. Suga only let him go so that he could shrug off his jacket and lay down his bag, then quickly tugged him over to his couch. He happily helped himself to Daichi, wrapping an arm around him, pressing several kisses to his face. Daichi was laughing.

“How was your day? How was work?” Suga asked, glancing up at the man. Daichi sighed a little sigh, wrapping his own arm around Suga and pressing the comfort close to him. “Tiring, to say the least. I had a phone pressed to my face for almost an hour, having a back-and-forth with a fussy customer. It was hell.” Daichi sighed a large sigh. “I’m just a part-timer, I shouldn’t be experiencing hell like this.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Suga glanced at his clock for a moment; just after four. He wanted to know more about Daichi’s day. “Did anything else happen before hell?”

“Hm… Not really.” Daichi admitted, resting his head against Suga’s, nuzzling soft locks of silver. “Just the stuff I texted you about before I left to work.” Suga recalled the “Oh shit, I burned the pancakes” and “Suga help, I don’t know which tie looks better” messages Daichi sent him that morning. He giggled, peeking at the man’s tie. “I’m glad you chose the tie I liked.” He said, and Daichi’s cheeks warmed. “I mean, if you like it, then I like it.”

“Why is that?” Suga already knew the answer. Daichi knew he knew, but still flattered him with the obvious response. “Because I like you.” Suga squirmed in Daichi’s arms as the man held him tight and close, kissing his lips playfully. Once Suga relaxed on Daichi’s lap, he let himself into Daichi’s mouth, enjoying the other’s hot scent. Daichi pulled him even closer, equally pleased.

Daichi yawned. Suga gave him a face, Daichi calls it his ‘Mother Face.’ He poked Daichi’s cheek. “Sleepy?” He questioned him, and Daichi shook his head. “Just tired. I don’t feel like going home.”

“If you were so tired, you should’ve just gone straight home.” Suga said softly, pressing a kiss to Daichi’s chin. “Why go through the trouble to come here?”

It was obvious. “Because I like you.” Daichi said, pressing his own kiss to Suga’s forehead. “I knew seeing you would brighten my day up.”

Suga’s heart beat increased, and he gasped lightly when Daichi’s arms cradled him even closer. The man’s touch felt warm, just like his cheeks, just like him. “Is it working?” Suga asked hopefully. Daichi laughed, leaning down so he could kiss Suga properly. “The moment I saw you, everything became infinitely better.” Suga breathed a sigh of relief into open lips.

“I know how to make it better.” Suga told him, caressing strong cheeks and jaw. “How?” Daichi tilted his head, and Suga’s smile tilted with it. “Let me cook you something!”

“You can cook?” Daichi asked, and Suga swiftly punched him as he stood. “Rude! Of course I can!” Daichi coughed on air, raising a defensive hand as he scrambled out an apology. “I may not be the best, but at least I can cook!” Suga pointed at the man. “Can you?”

“Can I what?”

“Cook!” Suga exclaimed.

Daichi made a nervous smile, scratching a finger with a cheek as he glanced away, then back. “Ah, no.” He admitted. Suga crossed his arms with a triumphant huff and a “Hah, see?”

“What can you cook?” Daichi asked, standing as well and walking with Suga to the small kitchen. Suga chuckled as he retrieved some bowls and a whisk from his cupboard. He also removed a box that Daichi couldn’t see the label of. “Oh, simple things, really. I love baking, actually, but I’m good with the frying pan too.”

“What will you cook?” Daichi asked, moved so that he stood behind Suga, hugging him around his waist. Suga smirked at him, then showed the box’s appearance. “Pancakes.” He said, and Daichi squeezed him hard, eliciting a gasp from Suga as he bit his neck with a nibble. “How dare you mock me so.”

Suga laughed. “Just wanted to make up for the pancakes you burned earlier.” He said. “I bet I can make them ten times tastier.”

“I bet you could.” Daichi agreed. He rested his head against the giggling man’s shoulder. “I like my pancakes really fluffy.”

“Huh, I expected the opposite of you.” Suga admitted, and he was poked in the cheek. He giggled some more. “What?”

“Don’t judge a person by his appearance.” Daichi reprimanded. Suga looked back at him to give him an odd stare. “Excuse me? Who judged who by appearance again?” Daichi gulped, then buried his face into Suga’s shirt. “Sorry, my bad.”

“No need to apologize.” Suga rolled his shoulder, hearing a groan from Daichi. “Nothing wrong with fluffy pancakes.” Daichi gave him a hopeful little gaze. “So do I get fluffy pancakes?” He didn’t need to ask. Suga bumped him. “Of course.”

Suga got to work, and though he appreciated Daichi’s warmth, he shooed him away so that he could work efficiently. The way the man would kiss his neck and tickle him was way too distracting. Daichi shied away into the living room, and Suga allowed him to watch his favorite sports channel. Already, he could hear Daichi cheering. He giggled to himself.

Suga began to think.

Daichi was as complicated as fire. Not that he was complaining, but why was Daichi pursuing him with such devotion? Where was he getting his inspiration from? What was motivating him? Was he getting something out of loving Suga, or is he showering Suga with affection because he wants to? Wasn’t it tiring? Surely it was. It must be exhausting to be with Suga, something small, inferior, that you are forced to take care of. Suga knew it, knew how much of a hassle he was. If anything, he mirrored his creations, he mirrored his ugly art. Something you’re forced to carry with you, forced to call it yours, but despite this, you can’t discard it out of pity.

Suga thinks.

Who was the pity aimed towards? Did Daichi feel sorry for himself for being with Suga, or did he feel sorry for Suga for being Suga? No, no, wait. Who was it that felt sympathy for the other? Most likely, Suga was the one who felt sorry for Daichi. Daichi was the one in pain, Daichi was the one suffering here. Daichi should leave him, free himself of any misery before it came. Suga would, he knew. Suga would break any ties he had with himself if he was able to. Suga would keep his distance away from himself. Suga would do all he could to remove himself from himself.

Suga thought.

Should he change himself for Daichi? He could never get better, he would never get better. He was, in a word, hopeless. He was beyond any help. At least he could change, yes? But what good is change if it’s not the good kind? How could changing possibly be any better? Before that, was he even capable of changing himself? Was it what he truly wanted? Will he be able to do it? Just what lengths was he able to go through to love Daichi? Could he even pull it off?

Suga knows.

Just like a deadly red, Daichi’s existence could mean several things to him. It could be a necessity, he’ll find that he would need the man in his life, unable to live without his warmth. Daichi could kill him however. Daichi could consume him, and kill him. Suga probably didn’t mind, he wanted Daichi to take him, but wasn’t it dangerous? It would be painful. It would hurt. Suga didn’t want that. Suga knew now, no matter what, the red would hurt, no matter how good, no matter how saintly, no matter how innocent it was. Everywhere it went, it spread nothing but pain. Everywhere, it would inflict an agonizing pain.

Suga knew.

Daichi was dangerous. Was he willing to take the risks?

More questions.

All of them were questions Suga had no answer to.

He finished the pancakes. Suga giggled to himself.

He stacked them on a plate, syrup and butter topping the pancakes perfectly. He sighed, then called, “Daichi!”

There was no response. Suga tilted his head when he entered the living room and Daichi was not found. He glanced at the empty couch, then at the volleyball match occurring live. He set the plate down on the small table, calling “Daichi!” again. There was no response again, and Suga felt bloody fear.

“Daichi?”

He wandered into the small hall in his home, glancing around, peeking into rooms. With each room, he called out and searched, hoping to find Daichi in case he was hiding. Yes, that was it. He was hiding from Suga. This was part of a large, pleasant surprise. Suga didn’t find any pleasantry in this surprise, and with each call, Daichi’s name sounded more urgent.

He found him.

Suga was searching for quite a while, and with each unsuccessful room, dread was sinking in his soul. It anchored his heart, yet he fought against the chains, earning brutal scars and marks as a result. The pain distracted him from his worries, but once he found him, he let go, and his heart shattered.

He was in his studio.

He was staring at his painting.

He was staring at his world.

Daichi was judging his world.

“What…” Daichi jumped, surprised by the sudden presence in the room, his eyes hazed. “What are you doing here?”

Daichi turned to Suga, but his eyes still held the painting. The painting was engraved there, at best. Suga wanted to scream. “I… I was looking for the bathroom… Looking for the bathroom… and… I…“

“You what?” Suga dared, stepping forward. “Who… Who allowed you to come in?”

“The… door was open.” Daichi’s argument was weak, and Suga quickly sliced through it like it was melted butter, his arm mimicking the act as he angrily punched the air. “Who allowed you to come in?” He repeated, stressing each word in the question.

Daichi appeared scared for a moment, then appeared apologetic. “I’m—Look, sorry. I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to come in here.”

“If you didn’t know, then why’d you come in?” Suga hated how he had to look up at Daichi. He’d rather look down upon death. “What made you think it was okay to just—oh, waltz right in here?”

Daichi’s smile was anything but happy. It quivered. “I… I’m sorry. Suga, I’m so sorry.” He stepped close. “I-I’ll leave…”

“No.” Suga held up an arm, blocking Daichi’s path. His breathing was hard. “Answer me.”

Daichi’s breathing was soft. “I thought it was okay…” He paused. “I thought it was okay because you liked me.”

Suga fought back the need to laugh. “Liked you?” He repeated.

“Don’t you?” Daichi’s breathing was so soft. “I… I like you.”

Suga’s lips trembled. “Like me?” He repeated.

Daichi reached for his hands. Daichi took his hands. Daichi held his hands.

Daichi’s breathing was so, so soft. “I… love you, Suga.”

Suga couldn’t breathe. This fire released smokey fumes, fumes that suffocated him, irritated his lungs, irritated him.

He knows now. Fire did not only affect sight. It didn’t only cloud his vision, made him see red, it affected his entire being. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t feel. Suga gasped, his throat screeching for comfort. Suga closed his eyes, his ears begging for relief. Suga couldn’t take his hands away, his skin crawling with fear.

All was red to him.

Daichi’s touch was burning him, to say the least. It wasn’t numbing, that painless achievement never came after the scalding agony that left his skin burning. It burned, it hurt. Suga couldn’t take his hands away. The fire trapped him in a firm grip.

“I’m sorry, Suga.” Daichi was so, so, so soft. The fire engulfed him. “Please, don’t let this…”

 _Break us._ Something so simple, something so trivial, something so pitiful—Suga knew this alone could break them. It was Suga’s fear, after all. It was all of Suga’s insecurities captured on canvas, and Daichi was staring at it for who knows how long thinking who knows what. What he felt was something Suga didn’t want to think about, and the amount of tears he produced wasn’t nearly enough to extinguish this flame.

Suga couldn’t even muster up the oxygen to form a response.

“Suga…?” Daichi was so soft. “Suga… please. I’m so… so sorry.”

Suga tried so very hard to breathe, to form words, to think clearly—all to no avail.

He did try. He failed. What happens after failure? Do you try again? Do you stop? What now?

“Why are you sorry…?”

Daichi’s eyes were soft. “What?”

Suga tried again. Failure amounted to nothing if it isn’t a learning experience for you, right? You might as well learn from your mistakes, and try again. “Why… Why are you sorry?”

Daichi’s tone was soft. He held Suga, it burned. “Me… being here makes you uncomfortable?” Suga was beyond uncomfortable, he was upset, he was absolutely livid. It wasn’t Daichi that was red to him, it was Suga himself. His own vision was burning red, his own hearing was a scalding hiss, his own breathing an angry breath. His fat tears were also very hot. They branded black trails on his skin.

“What makes you think that?” Suga huffed, and despite himself, he clung onto Daichi. His fingers choked the fabric of his clothes.

“You seemed… You didn’t look like you wanted me to be here…” Daichi’s voice was soft. Suga couldn’t look at him. He was too bright, too blinding. It hurts him. His tears didn’t cleanse the dirt that stung his eyes, so he kept crying. “Why… Why do you think that?”

Daichi held his breath, and Suga felt his breath closer to him, his face also meeting his, and he quickly drew away when the steam scorched his skin. He hiccuped, unable to use his hands to wipe away the tears, so they dirtied his face. He kept crying. “Does it have something to do with the painting?”

Daichi was soft.

Suga loved soft things. He loved them to a fault.

You were able to cuddle with soft things, you were able to hug soft things, you were able to do various things with them because they were soft.

You could also choke them, you could also punch them. You could also kill them.

Daichi was soft. But he was strong. Stronger than Suga anticipated. Daichi’s hands still embraced Suga’s in an iron grip, and he was unable to pull them back and away. Daichi was stronger than Suga, but he wasn’t softer. He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t as soft as Suga thought he was. Damn it all.

Right, Suga recalled, it was Daichi that was doing the killing here, not him. This was the unbearable pain in his chest, right? This was Daichi’s doing, right? Right?

“It is the painting, isn’t it?” Daichi pulled him, and Suga pulled back. Yes, right, it was him. He was right. It hurts.

Daichi saw his painting, his flaws, his mistakes. He saw it all. He sobbed louder.

Daichi frowned, though Suga couldn’t see it clearly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t…”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t” played out harshly in Suga’s mind, but it never breathed air. Suga’s pants and hiccups prevented him from finding his voice.

“Your painting…” Suga refused to look at Daichi. “Suga, your painting…”

No. No. He shook his head violently, trying to wrench himself away from the searing touch, the one hurting him. He needed to get away. No. No. No!

“Your painting is beautiful.”

_No!_

He didn’t know how, but Suga had managed to get Daichi’s hands off of him, and though he expected to feel a cool relief upon release, he only felt hotter. He held his breath, then shouted an ugly sob from his throat. Suga’s knees buckled, and he fell. He gasped, panicked, when torrid chills shot through his body. He clutched his shirt, trying to soothe his troubled heart, but the more he tampered with it, the more it burned. It hurts. Suga cried.

“Suga?!” Daichi held him. “Suga—hey, Suga!”

Suga’s heart was soft. So fragile. So easily broken. Daichi was taking advantage of his weakness. “Suga—Suga, you’re okay.”

“Shut up!” Suga whispered. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

Daichi’s arms didn’t let go. The man sounded confused. “Suga…?”

“I’m not okay!” Suga whimpered, hands grasping Daichi almost painfully. “You… you… you called my painting…”

“Beautiful?” Daichi offered, genuine. That honesty made Suga blister with rage. He thrust himself away from Daichi, landing on the floor rather cruelly. He couldn’t stop shaking, but he was far from cold. He was sweltering. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear.

“I-i-it’s not…” Suga said, seconds before exploding. “You liar… Liar, liar, you liar.”

Daichi didn’t look as handsome when hurt flashed in his eyes. “I’m not lying—”

 _“Liar!”_ Suga bellowed, preparing the launch. “You lie! I-it’s hideous, isn’t it? It’s a worthless piece of trash… Ugly—terrible—good for nothing! I sh-should throw it away, right? Right! I mean—it—I can’t create anything, I’m not talented— _at all_. Kageyama-kun’s better than me, Oikawa’s better than me… _Everyone_ is better than me, there’s no way— _no way_ —someone like me could compare!”

“Wha-what? Suga, slow down…”

But fire never slowed for anyone. It rages, it devours, it murders. Suga continued babbling furiously. “I try, but it’s never good enough! My efforts are never good enough— _I’m_ never good enough! What’s the point of changing if you can’t improve? Wh-what’s the point of improving if you can’t get better? I try—and I _try_ … But it’s never enough! I can’t… I can’t…”

Suga sat quiet for a moment, then whimpered, “I can’t paint anything… beautiful…”

Daichi was still as well. “Your—er, painting… it is! It’s very beautifu—”

_“LIAR!”_

And then there were fireworks. Unpleasant, hideous fireworks. They erupted from Suga, and they startled Daichi, and both separated from each other. Sparks flew, and they bit and snapped at both of them, and so, to avoid contact, they separated, just like that. Daichi was quicker to back away. Suga expected that.

Suga took a moment to recollect himself, knowing it was impossible anyway, but he did need a moment. Afterward, he stood, and walked over coal as he went to his painting. His unfinished, raucous piece that reflected himself at different angles, at all angles. He despised its existence, he despised his worthless talent, he despised his useless hands… What good was his devotion to art if he was unable to produce anything? Why pretend when you aren’t able to contribute?

“Leave.” Vibrant trails of fiery lines fell from the center, dripping down the black sky. “Now.”

Daichi wanted to observe their beauty a moment longer. A lifetime, if he could. “What? Suga—no, I want to stay—”

“Leave.” Suga repeated, he kept his hardened gaze on his painting, he kept his back to Daichi. “Daichi, leave.”

“Suga! I need to be here for y—”

“Please!” Suga cried. The lights glittered the ground. “Please… Daichi, just leave…”

Daichi admired the firework’s beauty until it’s death, then sighed in dejection when they disappeared. He reached for Suga oh-so reluctantly, but never made it. He stood shakily, still so startled. “I’ll… I’ll be at Karasuno later tonight… If you need me… I’ll… be there. I’ll wait for you.”

Daichi sighed almost inaudibly. “I’ll wait for you, Suga. You’re _worth_ waiting for.”

Daichi turned, then said almost inaudibly “Please… be there.”

Suga dropped to his knees once more when Daichi exited his studio and exited his home. He bawled quietly, his pleads piercing the air, piercing his own ears, piercing his soul. It left his soul ablaze with an unknown emotion, an uncontrollable disease that made him ill, sick to his stomach. He wanted to vomit.

He told Daichi to leave.

He should be relieved, right? He wanted this. This was better. This was more convenient. This was satisfactory. He should be happy. Happy for Daichi, happy for himself.

Why did he want to cry? Why was he still feeling bad?

Suga knew—he knew along, but never wanted to admit it.

Suga wanted to burn in Daichi’s fire, no matter how much it hurt.

A fire Suga shared within his own chest colored a blistering red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual, please tell me if you find any mistakes!!   
> hope you're enjoying the work!!


	5. White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t you think it’s more fitting to call it ‘our’ world?”

All the colors have been painted, and it was complete. Suga, ecstatic and breathless, hurried to Karasuno.

He sprinted, out of breath, out of stamina, but still ran as fast as his feet carried him.

Across the pavement, his steps trailed colorful streaks, creating tails, creating comets. With each step, the earth rippled with a burst of lively animations of different shades. The sun shone above, radiant and carefree, clouds danced and animals sang. Even in the city of concrete, he could feel nature’s spirit. A rippling residue of trembling stripes followed him.

He ran harder.

His breath was visible as free ghosts, twirling in the air and rushing past him. Tears were present in his already watery eyes, glistening and blinding him, yet he still could see, strangely. He could see very clearly despite the tears and the waves of brown. There was no time to notice the blur around him, the images were too unfocused that he could only tell colors apart. He realized that he was probably sweating, but the drops felt cool against his skin.

He ran harder.

He was desperate. He was hasty. He needed to be fast. This dreaded winter was far too much, far too cold, far too harsh. He needed to hurry, or it would never end. Hibernation will last forever, and he didn’t want that. He needed to wake, _they_ needed to wake. Though the snow was fun, though the quiet was loved, though ignorance was bliss, Suga hated it. He thought he loved it at first. Winter was amazing, winter was sensible, winter was beautiful. But winter was never colorful. Winter was never alive.

Suga ran harder—each season deserved to be acknowledged and loved all the same. An endless winter was not a miracle, it was a curse. He needed to hurry, or it will last forever.

The still and deadly period that led to the end.

Suga didn’t want it to end.

Suga ran harder.

What was he feeling? Exhausted, surely. Excited, perhaps. Ecstatic, questionably. Enraged, who knew.

Terrified? Absolutely.

Still, Suga kept running.

What was he thinking? Stupid things, he giggled and slapped himself in unison. He was an idiot, as simple as that. The answer was simple, the problem was simple, the entire issue in itself was as easy as 1, 2, 3. Suga felt inferior, Daichi praised his talent, yet he pushed him away. After 3, Suga didn’t know what came next. It wasn’t easy after that, but he was willing to try.

This winter needed to go away, and so, stepping into the snow, dissolving it as he leaped, he ran harder.

Suga ran his hardest until he finally reached Karasuno.

The snowtime was quiet and still now, barely any animals croaking, and no showers sung. Suga could hear his desperate gasps and his frantic pulse. Scrambling to recover, he took a breath of the crisp chilly air and rushed inside.

“Excuse me!” Suga couldn’t help but announce, his voice cracking audibly. Asahi jumped beside him, then rushed over to Suga’s side. He looked more worried than angry, and more startled than worried. “Suga-san? What is it?”

“I’m… looking for Daichi!” In the mirror of Asahi’s eyes, Suga saw his own brown ones ablaze with determination. He would melt this snow himself if he had to. “Daichi! Is Daichi here?!”

Asahi took an agonizing moment to recover and reply. “A-ah! Dai-Daichi-san’s over there.” He pointed towards the back of the room, toward a more private area. Suga couldn’t see the tables from where he stood. “He said something about expecting you.”

“Thanks!” Suga bowed for a second, then briskly departed. He hurried toward where Asahi indicated, his eyes flitting around nervously as he walked. It was the chills, he knew, that was giving him goosebumps. One does not simply wish for spring as simply as they would wish for snow, and even then, it would be near impossible for snow to actually appear. Wishing didn’t necessarily grant anything, but it couldn’t hurt to try. It couldn’t hurt, right? Right. Suga was still anxious and jumpy.

He sat down, sighing.

“I… didn’t expect you to actually come.”

Winter wasn’t as cruel as he thought. It was still gentle, even after the tormented storm. It was calm, if anything. “You said you’d wait…” Suga flushed. “I didn’t… want to keep you waiting for too long.”

Daichi gave him the warmest smile he’d ever seen. Suga melted. “You know why I waited? You remember what I said, right?”

After a moment, Suga bit his lip and nodded, but he said nothing. Daichi gave him the warmest look he’d ever seen. Suga melted. “It’s because you’re worth it, Suga. You’re worth the wait, you’re worth the entire world to me. You understand, right?”

Suga nodded again. Daichi reached for him and held his hand with the warmest touch he’d ever felt. Suga melted further, an intense heat filtering through him, rendering him to be frozen for a moment, and then becoming overly animated. His clogs stopped functioning for a moment because of the overwhelming stimulation, but after taking a moment to take all this in, they rotated faster than ever. Suga was overheating. “I understand.”

Daichi’s hand clasped him tighter. “I want you to completely understand that…” Now both his hands? “I want you to engrave it into you, I want you to remember that… You’re worth it.”

Suga nodded.

“Talent is individual, it’s not as if everyone holds the same one. Talents are intricate, complex, and different for everyone. Saying a group of people have the same talent is like black and white… You still listening?” Suga nodded, and so Daichi continued. “There isn’t just black and white, there’s gray. And beyond that, there are so many other colors out there, each different than the last, just like a person and their talents. It doesn’t matter what people label your talent as, it’s not true that someone has more talent than someone else… Everyone… has their own special talent, and no one has more or less, okay? So, no matter what anyone says or thinks, no matter how you feel, you’re worth it, Suga. You’re amazing, and talented in your own Suga way, and you’re able to astound anyone, believe me. Okay?”

Suga smiled despite his beliefs. Well, that wasn’t true, his faith lies elsewhere now. No longer did he believe in his inferiority, his despondency, his inability to create art, because now he believed in Daichi. He’ll allow himself to lose this time. For now, he’ll let Daichi have his way.

However, the man still needed to prove his victory.

“You’re not just saying this to get in my pants, right?” Suga asked, about to cry.

Daichi held his hands and brought them close to him, causing Suga to lean closer and for their eyes to meet. If Daichi wasn’t appearing earnest and desperate, Suga didn’t know what to believe in anymore. If anything, was he able to believe in Daichi?

“I’m saying this because it’s true.” He sucked in a breath, then smiled flawlessly. “It’s true that you have an amazing talent for making everything beautiful, Suga. Everything about you, from your hands, to your voice, to your everything, everything that touches you—you make beautiful. The way you’re able to touch people, I’m sure that is what makes your art beautiful. That is why… when I first saw your art…”

Suga closed his eyes. 

“… When I first saw you, Suga…”

He was certainly going blind.

“I was touched by how you made…”

Daichi was simply too much.

“… everything in my life beautiful…”

Daichi was too damn bright…

“… when our eyes met.”

He was too damn colorful.

“When our hearts met, everything was… beautiful.”

This was all the proof Suga needed. Within a few seconds, colorless tears fell freely from his eyes, and he couldn’t stop them. He didn’t really want to stop them, not while in a state of glee. He was laughing.

“How are you a lyricist with your choice of words?” Suga chuckled out, and Daichi chuckled with him. “Was that an insult? How dare you, Suga.”

“That came out wrong, but… but that wasn’t an insult, not at all. You… you said all the right words… The words I’ve probably been waiting—wanting to hear my entire life. Thank you… Thank you so much, Daichi.” Thankfully, the table was small enough for Suga to leap up and hug Daichi. Daichi gasped, but did not hesitate to wrap his own arms around the slender man. “It’s no problem, Suga. No problem at all.”

Suga was still giggling.

“What’s so funny?” Daichi asked, interested. Suga gave him a smile, then let him go. “It’s funny… I was thinking the same thing as you… Well, not really. But almost the same thing!”

“What?” Daichi asked, watching as Suga leaned down to retrieve whatever it was he left on the ground when he sat down. It was almost the size of a canvas, Daichi thought as he suspiciously eyed the way Suga picked it up the clothed piece carefully. Suga gave him an embarrassed smile, before directing that embarrassment toward the object in his hands.

“Me too.” Suga began, fumbling with his hands and his words. “When you came into my life, everything was… better. Everything was colorful, Daichi!” Suga’s lips curled into something that trembled, something that wavered, yet it never faltered from a cheery form. “Though I say that, earlier I… I shut you away when you gave me nothing but praise… Yet, I didn’t give anything in return. So… So, Daichi… I’m giving this to you.”

Daichi touched the canvas when Suga held it out to him, taking it and staring at it for a moment before removing the cloth that hid it. It was the same painting from before, the one that captivated him at first sight just as Suga had. He gave Suga an incredulous look, surprised. “Y-you’re giving me this? Are you sure, Suga?”

Suga nodded, though the action was almost forced. No, it wasn’t forced, Daichi deemed it reluctant. Suga sucked in air, then released it in a heavy breath. “I’m g-giving you…” Daichi couldn’t hear the rest. He craned his neck, giving Suga a tentative smile. “What?”

Suga did a repeat of inhale and exhale. “I’m giving you… my world…” He recovered for a moment, making what looked like a mix of angry and flustered. “I-I’m not giving it to you for free, though! I want something in return!”

Daichi’s eyes never left Suga’s. “What can I give you, Suga?”

Suga didn’t hold out his hands, but Daichi knew Suga certainly wanted something only Daichi could give. It took Suga’s words for him to finally realize. “In exchange for my world… I want yours.” Suga said, and Daichi gasped when the tears stopped and Suga looked more determined than ever. “I’m willing to give you my world in exchange for yours.”

Daichi finally looked away from Suga so that he could look at Suga’s world. Just like Suga, it was beautiful beyond compare, nothing about it disgusted him, so what could Suga find so undesirable about his own world? Why was it necessary to switch? No, this couldn’t be right, Daichi thought. Why would Suga want to give up his wonderful world? “Why are those your terms?” Daichi stopped himself, meeting Suga’s eyes again. “Not that I’m complaining… But why do you want to exchange worlds?”

Suga received this question with shock on his expression as if he wasn’t expecting it. He looked away, looked at Daichi, then smiled again. “I like your world better.”

“Why?” Daichi lowered the painting a bit. “Suga… I’m pretty sure our worlds aren’t that different from each other. So, why… Why do you want to switch?”

Suga’s smile became sad. “Your world looks better than mine. I like looking at it better.”

“Your world is equally beautiful, Suga.” Daichi brought the painting back up so that he could study it once more, smile at it once more. “Why can’t you see it that way?”

“I simply cannot see my world as you do. Not anymore.”

“You must be blind.”

“Not blind.” Suga gave a weak and frail laugh, could you even consider it that. “It just lacks color.”

Daichi kept his eyes on Suga’s world. Did he not notice its true potential? “But… your world is…”

“I know.” Suga’s smile was also weak and frail. “When you came along, the world was bright again. You had no idea how refreshing it was! When I met you, I was able to see again. The world was so vibrant and colorful, so amazing and wonderful… All the colors took my breath away. But once I saw all the colors, I knew… I knew it wasn’t my world anymore, it became yours, Daichi… Daichi, it was you that painted the world.”

Suga planted both his palms against the table’s surface, face hard and eyes earnest. “I want to live in your world instead, where all is happy and okay.” He said. “Please, let me live in your world.”

Daichi stood. Suga straightened his back as he watched him. Finally, the wind was changing. The painting still raised and visible, Daichi turned it so that Suga was able to see it as well. Suga’s eyes widened further, and he glared instinctively. No, it wasn’t out of anger, not out of wrath, it was because it was too bright. Squinting, he stared at his work, blinking several times before his eyes widened further. He looked at Daichi.

“If you’re willing to, Suga…” He displayed Suga’s painting proudly, content with it, pleased that he was able to call it his, or better yet… “Let’s live together in our world.”

… ‘Ours.’

“No longer is it ‘your’ or ‘my’ world, Suga.” Daichi said, glancing at the splatter of colors before giving Suga a wide grin. “Don’t you think it’s more fitting to call it ‘our’ world?”

Suga wore a blank face for a moment. “Why?”

Daichi leaned down, and then, the very same burst of colors entered his vision once more. Colors that he was once unable to perceive, colors that he was once blind to, suddenly became so clear to him. Everything was bright, everything was vivid, everything was there.

The snow melted. Flowers blossomed forth. Everything flourished with vivacity.

Daichi’s kiss was as tender as the promises of spring—the promise of new beginnings, the promise of purity and honesty, the promise of believing in your own strength, the promise of love.

Suga wanted to be in Daichi’s world.

A world that wasn’t lacking color. 

But now… 

Their world was the most beautiful.

“Because we painted it together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you v much for reading!! as i said, it was a small, chill fic where i just wanted to indulge in the significance of colors///  
> hope you enjoyed it!! <3 have an amazing, colorful day! \\(*ˊᗜˋ*)/


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